Fangs
by Owenzeegirl
Summary: Based on the universe provided by White Wolf (and brought to life my Troika Games). After the drama that occurred in LA several years ago, the Camarilla in England remodeled itself to adapt to the needs of itself modern Kindred community. However cracks are beginning to resurface when a new Baroness arrives in the region, causing changes in alliances and new rivalries.
1. Introductions

**[N/A: I'd just like to state I do not own VtMB nor the characters with it. Also I'd like to warn readers that this is only based on the world of VtMB (as in Clans and other parts on their culture). Though there maybe reference to characters from the game they won't appear. I've tried to make some of the characters reminiscent of the characters from the game. Please enjoy.]**

In the dark, dead streets, of the city there sat a theatre. This theatre was not only a place of entertainment, but of confidential meetings that determined the lifestyle by which some of England's population must abide to. Of course the un-dead, myths of the night didn't care for such meetings, as they had un-lives of their own to attend to, but when someone their community broke their rules or an outsider didn't respect their rules, the Camarilla community had to act as there was a price to be paid.

The large stage of the royal theatre was populated with a speaker, two guilty parties, four guards and the speaker's henchmen. All of which were pasty and pale, looking as if they hadn't seen sunlight in years. The speakers' audience was spread out among rows of chairs, separated into friendship groups, Clans or loners. Several members of the audience sat by themselves away from the others, but somewhere they could hear the speaker clearly. Other members, who either were more important, or believed they were more important, sat in the boxes and balconies either side of the stage.

This was meeting for vampires. One of these vampires was new to these meetings with this country's Camarilla and unacquainted with many of Kindred present, due to her Clan she was probably going to remain that way. Either way the blonde was unbothered by this situation, there were more serious things to worry about besides making friends. Listening the speaker was Genevieve's main concern at the moment in time. The vampire's dirty blonde wavy hair had been parted in the centre to frame her soft feminine face, for someone who looked so young she was very mature and wise. It wasn't uncommon for her to be mistaken for a member Toreador Clan, until she started speaking. Like all Toreadors, she cared a great deal about her looks and came across as an air-head, which is what she wanted many people to think. Her icy blue eyes followed the speaker as he causally walked about on the stage, explaining the disgrace the un-named Gangrel had brought to the Kindred. Genevieve sighed as she listened to the Prince rambling on about the Gangrel man that had created a Childe without the Camarilla's permission.

The Prince appeared to have forgotten that, as of ten years ago, the Camarilla no longer had the right to control what the members of the Gangrel Clan did. Though that didn't matter, as Prince Isaac Low didn't care much for the newly re-formed Camarilla.

Isaac, spoke on the stage at the front of the theatre with enthusiasm and confidence, believing his choice had been the right choice. His silver hair reflected the light hitting it. The illumination from the stage lighting seemed to reveal dark bangs under the old man's eyes and slightly wrinkled skin. Isaac was an ancient vampire rumoured to be from the middle ages, very old fashioned in his views and policies. Like many Princes he was from the Ventrue Clan, meaning he had fine taste and old-fashioned beliefs. His large bank account made him very influential and had given him easily access into Camarilla. Low had little interest in reforming a system where he still had power.

The Brujah or 'Rebels' were held responsible for this social change. The Clans that formed the Camarilla still had to obey the rules that protected them from discovery, but the system of hierarchy had changed. Instead of having a Prince in control of a major city, a Prince now supervised the activities of a whole a region, when the Camarilla's Clans were the majority. There would then be Baron or Baroness, in control of part of the region which was heavily populated with vampires belonging to the Camarilla. Within said city there would be several potential Barons, or potential Primogens, supervising various activities and spying on other Kindred. It was far more restrictive than the previous system, which was something many Brujah didn't like. The reform has caused the members of Ventrue Clan to strengthen their positions within the Camarilla, and many Ventrue Clan members had taken high positions and extended their influence.

Now Genevieve wasn't familiar with how this English Prince ran his Region. All she knew is that a Germanic prince, if there was one, would have issued the Gangrel with a warning and a second chance. Low wasn't known for being merciful. As a Baroness from Vienna, the blonde watched with interest as Isaac spoke. This Englishman's speech was explaining why an independent vampire was being sentenced to death. She then focused on the fact she'd compared Low to non-existent Prince, rather than the Prince she used work for...

She'd came to England because humans were going weary of the fact that she wasn't growing any older after owning the same nightclub for over 15 years. The blonde quickly sold the nightclub to the Baron that was replacing her and arranged to become a Baroness in England until the humans grew weary of her again. Unaware of where she was going to be sent, Genevieve resented her amateur move and could only hope to acquire another nightclub and continue where she left off.

The Sire was suddenly dragged to the centre of the stage. His soft blue eyes looked up at the audience begging for mercy, which was not common behaviour for any Gangrel Clan member to display. His tattered brown hair was in short tattered dreadlocks, and his skin seemed to have scaly quality to it. He had created a Childe, which he intended to leave to fend for herself, to see whether she could adapt to her new world, before being taken in by him. An excellent, yet awful, way of seeing whether she was worthy of the Gangrel blood that sat in her dead veins. If she did not successfully adapt she would be seen as a liability and left to become a Caitiff, a Childe without a Sire. Usually, the Gangrel stalk a human for days deciding whether he or she was worthy of vampire blood, however, this man did it purely because he could.

Low, paused for a brief moment, as if he was having second thoughts about his decision. After regaining his confidence he paced behind the Gangrel Sire, pulled out an old-fashioned pistol and pressed it to the back of the Gangrel's head. The man jumped slightly, as the cold metal rested against his head. The Sire sighed, knowing that tonight had been his last night on this earth.

After several loud bangs, the Gangrel fell forward lifeless, his whole body turning to ash, he'd suffered Final Death, the ultimate sacrifice for those who broke the rules.

Low the wondered towards the other Gangrel on the stage "Now, as for the Childe..." He started

"No way." An American accent barked from the back of the hall "You're not killing a Gangrel Childe, you had no right to kill the Sire!"

The American had grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. Turning round, Genevieve saw a tall muscular man standing on his chair in the middle of the eighth row. Admittedly he hadn't been sitting that far back in the theatre but he'd certainly distanced himself from the other vampires in the audience, by sitting several rows behind them all. His brown hair was messy. The American's eyes were dark and unwelcoming. He obviously wasn't Gangrel, but had a strange, rather aquiline nose. If his outburst hadn't shown his disagreement with the Prince's decision, his scowl certainly did.

It was now obvious to Genevieve that this man was a bit of a troublemaker and didn't make the Prince's life easy. _Oh joy, a verbal sparring match, just like the Austrian days!_ The blonde thought as her lips curved upwards into a sadistic smile. _It has became apparent that I shall be enjoying my time here in the land of Engs._

"Relax, Enoch..." Prince Low calmly replied "I had no intension of killing the newly embraced Childe, she is going to become a Caitiff, like her Sire intended... The Sire was punished for embracing a human that lived within the domain of a Camarilla protected region..."

Although a Prince supervised a region, there were many parts of every region that weren't controlled by the Camarilla, purely because there weren't enough Clans belonging to Camarilla there for the Prince to have full responsibility over them. If the population of the Independent, Anarch or Sabbat Clans outnumbered those belonging to the Camarilla, the Prince had no right to send Barons there. Though it wasn't unheard of for a Baron, to occasionally visit these areas. Usually if a member of an independent Clan broke the rules set out for the Camarilla members, they'd be punished as if they were Camarilla. For obvious reasons many disagreed with this.

There were many of these areas with the Britain and Ireland alone. The countryside didn't attract many vampires from any Clan, even then, many cities lacked the presence of many vampires. It seemed many of the Camarilla vampires had fled to the North of England, with urban areas renowned for nightlife, it was obvious that party-goers were easy pickings for vampires. Though the tinted alcohol filled blood was unpleasant to the senses, of some vampires, it was far better than having a raging thirst to deal with. The London nightlife was now becoming too competitive, many European and American vampires visited London, making hunting difficult for the local population of vampires.

"You can't just let Dominique's Childe wonder aimlessly around the English countryside, she'll become a threat to anyone and everyone she come into contact with. Gangrel are well known to 'frenzy'!" Enoch argued back.

Gangrel lived there lived close to _The Beast_. _The Beast_, existed inside all vampires from all Clans and _it_ needed to be controlled, if _it_ controlled the vampire instead the consequences were devastating. Going into a 'frenzy' was the state where _The Beast_ controlled a vampire's every action, causing the vampire to act on its most primal instinct, breaking the laws that protected them. The best ways to avoid going into a 'frenzy' was feed regularly and to never kill while feeding. Genevieve's Sire once told her "Never suck until the artery is dry, it will ruin you..." By maintaining their humanity, a vampire could tame _The Beast_ to a certain extent. Gangrel often had trouble controlling their primal instincts, every time they gave into_ The Beast _they'd gain a new animalistic feature, everything from tufted ears to scaly skin. It was rare for a newly embraced Gangrel to still look reasonable normal after 10 years.

Genevieve had always found Gangrels, well, rather assuming, there was just something so strange about them. Was it the fact they have claws for fingernails? Or that their fangs were more noticeable? Whatever it was blonde couldn't help but giggle when she saw one. The girl kneeling on the stage just looked so amusing, she was so beastly, but not at the same time. The blonde had almost forgotten about the debate between the Rebel and the Prince.

The Prince stared down at the protester."Well, perhaps you should be her Sire, Encoh..." Venom seemed to seep out of the Prince's mouth as he said the rebel's name "You'll have something in common seeing as Brujah are also well known for 'frenzying'."

The brunette vampire had been caught by surprise, much to Genevieve's amusement. _I do take pleasure in watching the rebellion of the Americans against the English. It sounds like a familiar event._ She thought to herself. Encoh was no longer standing in on his seat but now in front of it, he'd been fighting for the Gangrel girl's rights not for custody of her. The American's objectives were still a little unclear to Genevieve, but she had a feeling she'd understand his goals after talking to him, face-to-face.

"Surely that kind of responsibility belongs to a Baron..." The rebellious vampire eventually replied

Low frowned in concentration "I suppose you're correct..." He addressed the whole audience "Are there any Barons after such a responsibility?" He paused for a brief moment "No? Not one of you are going to save this Childe from Final Death?"

No one attending was from the Gangrel Clan, having a non-Gangrel teach the Childe would probably put everyone in more danger. Genevieve felt a buzzing in her ears, the 'cobweb' was active, the thoughts of the voices complaining that this was not her place to become involved, Gangrels didn't trust _her_ type. Why should _they_? Genevieve thought they were hilarious.

"Why don't you just give the girl to the Malkavian Clan, they'll send her to her doom faster than you can!" Encoh retorted

The Malkavian Clan, was a difficult Clan to trust. Many Gangrels knew that Malkavian vampires were difficult to trust because they listened to the voices, which came from the 'cobweb', which freaked the Gangrels out in a way. In fact the 'cobweb' made Malkavians a little too unpredictable for anyone's liking.

These voices existed in the 'cobweb' that unified all the brilliant Malkavian minds. It was this 'cobweb' that allowed them to organise themselves and spontaneously attend social events. The Malkavian Clan appeared to be a disordered bunch of lunatics, while in reality they were so highly organised they didn't even seem to realise it. This effortless organisation allowed the Malkavians to peruse their seemingly mysterious goals, goals which somehow always seemed produced significant results. It was rumoured that the elders of the Malkavian Clan held the capacity to manipulate the rest of the Clan through it the 'cobweb', though few from outside and within the Clan actually believed it and some within the Clan were sceptical.

Genevieve had only attended this meeting because she'd heard about it through the 'cobweb'. The voices and thoughts of other Malkavian vampires could sometimes be passed along through the 'cobweb'. The blonde had heard the thoughts of a fellow Clan member that was also in attendance and she was continuing to hear their thoughts as the meeting went on.

The Prince frowned "Fine, would any Malkavian vampires in the room, like to play Sire?" The Prince suggested, as he looked directly at a blonde vampire "How about you, Caden? You're so eager to become a Baron, this could help you on your road to success."

Genevieve pouted. The blonde recognised the name Caden, though she hadn't met someone by the name since the 1840s during a brief visit to Ireland. She'd met many men during her travels, but Caden seemed to be a name that had remained firmly in her mind.

"To be honest I would rather not babysit a Childe that could potentially kill me. If she were Malkavian on the other hand, I'd have no choice but to adopt her as my own. However, she's Gangrel. I will not assist a girl from the Clan that refuses to trust me." Caden replied

Looking over at Caden, the female blonde had to admit, he even looked familiar, but something was off. The feminine facial features, flaxen hair and brown eyes were memorable to Genevieve. The pale slender body was one she'd definitely encountered before. Even though Caden looked like a man she'd met before something was off about him. There was no charm or playfulness coming from Caden, he seemed rather robotic in his actions as if programmed to act cold and unfeeling. The blonde appeared to be impersonating a Toreador or Ventrue Clan member, with a designer suite and well-kept hair. He was too clean, too obedient to be a man she'd met before.

The Prince shrugged "Very well then..." He uttered, turning to look at Genevieve "How about you? You're Malkavian, and a Baroness... Surely you'll be willing to save this Gangrel from her doomed fate..."

The blonde looked at him in horror for a brief second. _He wishes for me to play babysitter? _After that second her horror became anger, as the 'cobweb' again became active. _If I wasn't conscious of this chess match before, I am now... Trying to compel me into submission... Been waiting for me to intervene since my arrived... A little reminder of who I am will put him in _his _place... _The Baroness' broken inner-monologue fought over the voices.

"Although the poor kitten is sliding further into the vast, black abyss, I shall not be the one that stops her teetering over death's razor edge." The Baroness calmly replied.

The Prince frowned, confused by the reply. It wasn't uncommon for a Malkavian to talk in a abstract manner, though many learnt to speak in a way that most people understood. It was only the _really_ insane ones that spoke in this manner most of the time. Isaac looked round, other Malkavians understood her rambling, while the members from the other Clans frowned, most trying to comprehend she'd said. All Prince Low had gathered that Genevieve wouldn't prevent the girl's death, he wasn't entirely sure what the first part was about.

Caden spoke up, translating the previous speaker's sentence. "The Baroness just said the girl is doomed and she won't prevent the Gangrel's fate."

Murmurs came from the audience, unable to grasp how an abstract speech could be so translated into something so simple. Enoch was still standing, isolated at the back, being completely ignored, hoping he'd saved the Childe from her doomed fate in some way. Genevieve however sat, with a manic smile, staring straight at the Prince._ Send the kitten to land of Scots, where Gangrel run free and wild._ She unintentionally, and unknowingly, sent her thought running through the 'cobweb'. The voices in return spoke in either agreement or disagreement.

Enoch stood in isolation, knowing he'd failed. There was no chance of him avenging his friend by saving Dominique's Childe. The Gangrel was doomed to die. Even if releases to her own Clan, they'd leave her to fend for herself with no knowledge of what she'd become or how to survive.

"Why not send the girl to Scotland?" Another Malkavian suggested, in Enoch's horror.

"What? That's insanity, she'll not be able to avoid the temptation!" Enoch argued

Vampires from all the present Clans started to stood up and make their voices on the subject heard. most voting against the girl's freedom, believing she should serve the Camarilla, because she owed her life to the sect.

The 'cobweb' had its flaws, for example none of the Malkavians present knew which of their Clan had broadcast the message as the voices were different in each Malkavians head. The beauty of this is that some of Genevieve's fellow Malkavian Kindred may believe it was her that sent the idea round but they had nothing to prove it. Her mistake would go unnoticed. The voices were always difficult to keep secrets from.

Caden who'd originally been bored by this whole pointless characid had now taken an interest in the events unfolding before him. The most recent message delivered through the 'cobweb' had caused a mass argument to break out among many of the Kindred present. He observed the Isaac Low standing centre stage unable to regain control of the situation.

The argument had starter because it involved sending the Gangrel girl to Scotland. Controversial because the Camarilla had taken responsibly for the freshly embraced vampire, and not a single region in Scotland was controlled by the Camarilla. Anarchs had pushed the Camarilla out of Scotland when the Scottish humans got their own government. The majority of Scottish vampires were now independent, or Anarchs, there was no clear majority between the two so no system of order could be put in place in any of the regions. There were very few Scottish vampires who sided with the Camarilla that had survived the whole "revolution", but any that did had been classed as uninteresting and no threat to the Camarilla-free Scotland.

Caden O'Shea was also one of the few Malkavians not bickering with their fellow Kindred. There were three other vampires from his Clan that were not partaking in this dispute. Victoria West, a Malkavian who suffered from chronic depression, these arguments would only worsen her fragile condition. Originally she held the high status of Primogen for the her Clan, but her depression worsened as she started spending more time in meeting with the other Primogens. She now spent most of her time away from the politics and in her own fantasy world, writing novels under a pen-name. Her title of Primogen had been revoked a decade ago. Finding a Malkavian Primogen that would last more than one decade was often difficult.

Then there was Lucius, he was perfectly capable of creating such disorder but he was more of a sadist than a quarrel creator. The dark-haired Malkavian was man who replaced West as Primogen. He wasn't too interested in the politics and would rather spend time working on his bizarre projects and studying the disciplines available to the Malkavian Clan. Lucius' work with dementation was infamous, though it appeared to be having negative effects on his own mental stability.

The other was the mysterious Baroness ... He, like many, did not know her well enough to understand her motives behind starting a public spat. If Caden's brother had attended the meeting with him he may have known all of this by now. The blonde's sibling had thing for flirtation and fornication, as well as soft spot for other Malkavians. Caden's twin's ability to interact with the 'cobweb' was much greater than his own, his brother often knew the intentions of other people before they made them clear. When Caden attempted to listen to voices he usually got static or murmuring. He'd barely heard the whispering about sending the girl to Scotland.

The sound of gunfire came from the stage. Everyone's head's snapped to the front of the room. The Gangrel was fine, Low was furious. His steely grey eyes scanned the crowd, looking on at them in pure rage. The freshly fired gun in his hand had shot a hole in his one of henchman's chests. The wounded henchman look forward pretending to be unbothered by the hole in his torso. It was easy for Caden to tell that the vampire was silently fighting the urge to harm Low.

"You're all animals!" Low exclaimed "Fighting over the fate of a girl you don't know. Did any of you even know her as a Kine?"

The audience replied with silence, a few even submitting to the Prince's power and sliding back into their seat. Enoch, now accompanied with other Brujah clan members remained standing.

Low continued "No? I thought not. This girl means nothing to any of us. If it'd please everyone I'd kill the Childe and have this whole mess taken care of... But as usual there's someone who lack loyalty towards the Camarilla."

"I don't lack loyalty towards the Camarilla. I lack respect for corrupt, egotistical businessmen." Enoch retorted, a few of his peers holding him back.

Caden reacted the same way as a few of his fellow Kindred and looked around both confused and insulted by the accusation. Like many Kindred Caden owned and ran his own business because there was the ease of working at times that suited the Kindred lifestyle. There was no use in having a job that required working in the daylight hours because the Kindred would suffer Final Death before they reached the workplace. Owning nightclubs and other businesses where managers could be employed suited the Kindred just fine.

"I maybe slightly egotistical, Enoch, but I'm not Corrupt... The Primogens are there to ensure I do what's right for all the Clans in the Camarilla." Low argued.

The Rebel scowled at the Prince. "Whatever you say, Prince."

"Now, I believe this... Girl, should be given a chance to survive, however without a Sire she is doomed to fail. So... This Childe shall be sent else where... There are a pack of Germanic Gangrels in Sunderland at the moment, I shall pay them to 'adopt' this Childe as their own. If the Germanic Gangrels do not accept her, she will executed." Low compromised.

The room fell silence, several of the Primogens, including Lucius, nodded in agreement. If the Malkavian Primogen agreed with the decision Caden also agreed with it. The blonde looked over at the Baroness, she seemed uninterested in the matter, or she was just bored by how long this meeting was taking. Again Caden's access to the 'cobweb' was limited and he just getting information he already knew.

"Very well then, if no one has any objections, I call an end to this gathering." Low proclaimed.

As the Prince and his henchmen hurried off behind the stage's curtains. Caden jumped to his feet and rushed out of the row and into the aisle. Pushing past several other vampires, who complained about his lack of manners, the blonde Malkavian marched towards the nearest exit, hoping to catch Low before he sped off in his, over-priced, stretch-limo.

Once out on street, the Malkavian saw Isaac wondering towards his black car. Caden rushed over to the Prince, causing his henchmen to automatically form a wall in front of Low. Luckily, the blonde had done enough to catch the silver-haired man's attention.

The Prince pushed through the protective wall "Gentlemen, please, young Caden means no harm." He said with a false smile "What it is child?"

"In the meeting you said that was an opportunity to make me a Baron..." The Malkavian explained "I regret missing the opportunity and was wishing for you would grant me with another, Sir."

"As you know, Mr O'Shea, I don't usually grant second chances, with a competitive society like ours I can't just create opportunities for certain individuals such as yourself" The Prince started "Besides the position as Baron has been filled... However the new Baron is unfamiliar to this region... If you were to... Assist the Baron, I'm sure I could... Make an exception..."

"Thank you , Sir." Caden replied "Who would I be assisting?"

As Genevieve started to leave the theatre her path was blocked by a tall, dark-haired man. Black bags hung under his grey eyes and his skin was so grey it was practically blue. He was rather slender seeming to lack any form of body fat almost as if he had suffered from an eating disorder in previous life. His naturally contoured face and the grey suite he wore did not make him look any healthier. According to voices this man was a Malkavian.

"You must be the bullion Baroness of Vienna, here to substitute for the Baron of Blight." He purred.

Genevieve frowned "Baron of Blight? My mind is unfamiliar with this name."

"Ah, I had a feeling you were a Malkavian like myself… Originally I thought the Prince was wrong about your Clan and your abstract speech belonged to a Toreador lost in deep thought. However, you appear to suffer from flaws of our bloodline far worse than most... Stuart Tomkins was the previous Baron. He was more of a nuisance to than anything else. Constantly in debt and continuously asking the Prince and his Primogen for assistance. According to the rumours he was killed by hunter, though the voices tell me the Prince had finally had enough of his antics..." The dark-haired Malkavian replied.

"My grey matter shall remember to stay on the Prince's dark side, so the sun never shines... What name do you go by, colourless clown?"

"I am Lucius, your Primogen in this region. I hear the voices tell you what to do and not always why to do it… Obviously you insight is slightly foggy, but no matter, a few meetings with this region's… shadier characters will clear the fog for you, Genevieve."

Without even excusing himself, Lucius walked off towards another vampire. The blonde had a feeling that Lucius may have just given her a warning to watch her back, usually the voices were a nuisance, but in this city they appeared to be a useful ally. Though the 'cobweb' told her Lucius was no threat, she was still weary of him. The blonde started to consider allowing the voices to talk to her more often.

The blonde readjusted her satchel before making her way to the double door that led to lobby area. Apart from Lucius no one else seemed too keen to talk to her and the amusing Gangrel girl had been escorted elsewhere. By speaking like a Malkavian she'd automatically lost potential non-Malkavian allies in the city. With no reference of how to return to her riverside flat, the blonde was feeling a little lost.

"I haven't seen you around these parts before." A voice strangely familiar voice stated

Turning to her right Genevieve saw Caden. He was a little shorter than she'd first thought but he was still pushing six foot four. The sharp suit turned out to be a high-street brand and his hair slicked back out of his face. He was still rather robotic in his actions and appeared to have been pushed out of his comfort-zone. A cloud of strong, unpleasant, aftershave surrounded him, the blonde frowned to show her disproval of the odour that accompanied his presence.

"I don't hail from this vanquished region." Genevieve replied.

"I thought not, I would have remembered a pretty girl like you." The blonde smiled, attempting to flirt.

"The voices cry you don't partake in those activities."

He shrugged "The voices are correct… But do they tell you why I'm here?"

"They give me many reasons, dark brother."

Caden seemed to flinch slightly, reacting negatively to his new nickname. He then appeared to realise that the voices were informing Genevieve of his twin and possibly other things he didn't wish for her to know about.

"I'm here to help you, Baroness."

"Support me how?"

"I little bird told me you're unfamiliar with this region, even though you're a Baron in it... I believe I can help you settle in, if you can assist me in return..." Genevieve raised an eyebrow "...I own a nightclub by the river which isn't as popular as I want it to be, the same little bird told me you were nightclub guru… Perhaps an agreement can be reached."

"A pact maybe made. Let's parley terms, dark brother."


	2. The Tall Tower

The tallest tower in the city was a sign of power to both Kine and Kindred alike. To the Kine it represented the most successful company in the North of England to date, Low Industries. Established in the early 1970s by Jacob Low, a business man from Surrey, who used his wit and determination to climb the complex ladder that from the humble home business to the multimillion dollar industry. Producing the latest technology for the entertainment industry, the government, and various private corporations. Low Industries was the powerhouse that other companies relied upon if they were to remain successful.

To the Kindred the mighty Low tower was where their ruling Prince resided. It was common knowledge among the vampires to know that Jacob Low used to rule the region from the penthouse of his tower. This was until Jacob was violently killed by his own Childe and son, Isaac. For Isaac to kill his own Sire and take Jacob's place meant the tower now struck fear into the undead hearts of the Kindred. Rumours of assassins and diablerie flooded through the undead world as their ruthless ruler watched over them from the tower's penthouse, ready to punish anyone at any given moment.

* * *

Lucius Lazzari was a tall, pale man, with dark hair. He was tall in 1600s, and he was tall in the modern day. Not entirely surely how his lanky frame managed to reach just over two metres, the brunette still remained confused as to how he'd even been embraced. He remembered fangs sinking into his neck, but not entirely how they got there in the first place. Either way now he looked like a skeleton due to torpor. Sometime after he first feed he just closed his eyes and opened his grey orbs 300 years later. Thankfully he didn't look too decayed, though he was prone to stiff joints and was weaker than most vampires of his generation. His muscles, or what was left of them, were withered and weak. Sometimes if he went too long in-between feeding one of his legs would just give way.

Lucius was always on guard around others, but his fear was most palpable the near the Prince. He was always trying to keep a step ahead in the complex game that all Kindred were playing. The brunette by nature had forever been fearful of those in a position of great power. Although he was a Primogen, he had limited power, due to a lack of support and courage.

Lazzari represented his Clan in this region and so had the power to influence the Prince's decision if needed. Ironically, even though he was chosen by the Prince as Primogen Lucius also had the authority to depose of Low and take control himself. Though Lazzari and the other Primogens weren't brave enough to do anything but play the sycophants.

The skeleton like man stood examining a portrait in Isaac's office waiting to be questioned. After all the only reason he was ever summoned was either to make a decision or answer questions. Seeing as the room was lacking the other four Primogens, he could only guess that Low wanted to know something. Not wanting to force in lanky body down into a seat made for the average man, the child of Malkav remained standing. Resting some of his weight on his trusted and sometimes unnecessary walking stick, Lucius sighed. Looking down at the black metal cane, he wondered how out of place he looked in the dull office.

The office was grey. Grey stone floors, grey painted walls. Even the colours that didn't match Low's hair were dull in their own right. It was typical of a Ventrue vampire to have gold in their possession, so it didn't surprise Lucius when he saw the metallic colour dotted around the office. Gold picture flames, gold handles on the drawers and door handles, gold ornaments... These were just a few of the golden objects Lucius had noticed in the office alone. He could only imagine that Isaac's actual living quarters would practically be made of rare metals and uncommon items. The only thing of interest in this office was the priceless painting he was looking at. Apparently a portrait of an Italian nationalist, Lucius didn't know whether Isaac was aware of this but this painting would sell for millions in Italy, assuming no one found out it was painted by a vampire.

The brunette turned to find Low looking out of his office window onto the city's midnight streets. The nightlife of the city was always reasonably busy through the week. How humans could go about their lives unaware of the secret societies that had wrapped their roots around their cities' foundation was beyond the brunette's understanding. Were humans so arrogant to believe they were the most power creature on the planet? Or did the Camarilla serve its purpose so well that it had caused the humans to be lulled into a false sense of security? The slender vampire considered that this was a question best left unanswered. The only way to answer it would be to question the humans themselves, which risked revelation of Kindred's existence.

"So, Lucius," Isaac suddenly started "I need some information."

Pausing to consider what Isaac might be after Lucius' mind went blank. There was nothing new to discuss without a key word to distract the mumbling in his head from Low's future intentions and previous conquests.

"And would this information be exactly?" Lazzari curiously asked

"The Gangrel girl, where is she?" Low's replied, his voice had turned cold and hostile, sending a chill down the brunette's spine.

"Isaac, you know I cannot answer such a question."

The Prince slammed his fist down on the desk, cracking the polished surface "Mr Lazzari. I know you know the answer."

Lucius jumped in horror and started edging towards the door. The brunette was uncertain of what he'd done to deserve such treatment, but he didn't like it. The rage in Isaac's azure eyes, the flaring nostrils, the bared fangs and clenched fists, they all made Lucius want to run. If Isaac's reputation didn't proceed him, the voices did. The murmuring had become yelling in Lazzari's head, he wanted to scream and cry alongside them. He wished tell everyone the truth about everything Low had done.

"Where is the girl?" Low hissed

"Nowhere! She is hidden in a dark mist. Hidden beneath the clouds." Lucius cried

"How can she be nowhere?!"

The Malkavian calmed down slightly "I don't know… She has either disappeared into the other side of abyss… Or hidden. Hidden far away from Malkav's dead eyes. There are no details I can give you, as the puzzle is incomplete." The brunette explained.

Lucius noted how the Ventrue's weight shifted after he'd finished speaking. Fearing that his time with the undead maybe close to being over, he swiftly removed himself from the penthouse suite. Unable to get to out the building as fast as he would have liked the vampire started running before he'd even reached the elevator. His longs legs allowed him to cover the golden ground quickly, but, even with his vampiric abilities, they weren't able to cope with the sudden exercise. One of the running man's knees gave way to his weight.

Lazzari fell to the cold granite floor. His knees and wrists stinging as they made contact with the polished surface first. Unable to stop his head hitting the ground, a sudden shot of pain caused the vampire's world to become blurred. His walking stick sliding across the floor away from him, the brunette lay still and watched the black shape slide towards another dark shape. It was possible that the Malkavian was staring at the lower limbs of a person.

A familiar, yet unpleasant, voice spoke "Hello… Lucius…"

Low stood staring at the spot where his source of information once stood. Knowing Lazzari would be too scared to confront him or tell the other Primogens, Low was confident this would be kept a secret. Isaac had a feeling this encounter would only be knowledge to those who has been in the penthouse of the tallest tower.

* * *

The tallest tower was why Genevieve was weary of her new boss. After answering back at a meeting a few days ago the voices had gone crazy. A new warning was given to her every time she turned a corner. _'He has a knife_' or '_she knows hunters_' were just two of the cautious messages the voices had given her on her way to her newly purchased nightclub. It seemed even the quieter streets of this city presented the Baroness with some form of danger. Perhaps she'd been foolish to trust her Primogen.

The blonde had seen more than her fair share of danger after acting as one of the many hands of the Austrian Barons. However, even if a vampire was capable of defending themselves from an attacker it wasn't advised engage a human in combat. Every fight provided the Kine with the opportunity to find out that God's ultimate was not a creature but a curse.

The tall blonde was walking faster and faster towards her club. Unsure as to what had made her quicken the pace she continued towards her destination. Her golden locks had be styled to look rather glamorous and formal for the night's events. The ringlets that fell either side of her face seemed to bounce as she marched forward. The blonde's icy blue eyes looking for movement as she pasted various alleyways. Her black jeans were skin tight. Though most of the people she'd encounter tonight would probably focus on how frills on her grey blouse made her bust look larger than normal. The heeled ankle boots and jacket were merely the Germanic Baron's attempt to blend with the humans in the city. She couldn't dress inappropriately for the seasons or the Vampire Hunters would suspect something.

As the Baroness entered the large warehouse that was her nightclub, she looked round at the dangers of the city streets before closing the door behind her. Sitting on the North side of the river, The Madhouse had become infamous for being unpopular. Due to negotiations not favouring the previous owner she's brought the club with every intent on making it live up to its full potential. The only problem was she lacked the ability to go out during daylight hours to promote the clubs grand-reopening party.

Tonight was about finding employees. She needed dancers, bar staff, DJs, photographers and a personal assistant. By personal assistant Genevieve meant a ghoul. Usually the story of a ghoul, began with being fed vampire blood while keeping their own so they did not have to die to gain a vampire's abilities. However, with Malkavian blood things weren't so simple. Insanity ran in Malkavian's blood, so a strong-minded person was mandatory for Genevieve. As she could not go round driving people insane with her blood, she needed to find someone who'd be reasonably tolerant to her insanity.

As she settled at her desk in the middle of the club, the blonde received several complaints from the builders and decorators about the placement of her temporary office. However she couldn't understand why it was such a problem. _The ability to view both my potential employees and the construction work at the same time is a great one… I fail to understand why this is causing such a problem for the mortals... My desk is miniature compared to space in which they are working…_ She thought. Eventually she was persuaded to move to the room behind what would soon be the downstairs bar. Naturally the more 'gullible' workers moved her things for her.

As the blonde entered her prison cell for the next two hours she removed her coat. Hoping the frills on her blouse were okay she looked down to find they'd been flattened slightly. After sitting down she ruffled them up, before flicking through applicants.

Sitting though the interviews Genevieve again became anxious, voices telling her what truth about each potential employee had done and their future plans. The blonde couldn't help but look and sound nervous as she interviewed each person, until a Japanese girl walked into the room. The Baron was confused by the voices she heard, some were telling her she was at university while others informed her that the girl worked in Chinatown.

The blonde stood up a shook the girl's hand "Hello, thank you for coming…" She greeted, fighting the urge to talk how she normally would.

"Oh no, thank you for holding interviews, I've been looking for a new job." She said with a false smile

'Lie' was the first word that came into Genevieve's head.

"So what position are you applying for?" Genevieve asked as they both sat down

"I was hoping you'd let me become a member of your bar staff" She again said with a smile "As you can see by my CV I have had training with making drinks at a restaurant in Chinatown."

Lie. Genevieve fought to resist the urge to ask the girl to be honest, as she briefly flicked through her application form and CV.

"I also know some martial arts as well… So you know…" She laughed "…I can act as security as well…"

Truth… But not security for this club… As she thought this Genevieve frowned as she examined the girl's natural physical features. Angular face, hazel eyes, dark hair tied back into two pig-tails with a full fringe. The way she'd carefully done her makeup to make her pretty and innocent, like she was fresh out of high school. But like everything else this was a lie. The faint scar on her jaw line and the scar tissue on her knuckles suggested she'd been in multiple fights and was the victor, in most of them.

The blonde gasped in horror. _Warrior of Christ…_ Was the only thing she could think. _This girl is a hunter of Kindred_. The Hunter looked back at the Baroness in horror, seeming to realise that the blonde as realised who she was. The two seemed to be locked in place neither wanting to make the first move.

The Baron suddenly stood up "You're hired!"

The Asian's jaw went slack in surprise. Either unable to understand whether this was a joke or the genuine truth the girl sat staring up at the beaming Malkavian.

"I-I'm…I'm what?" The Asian stuttered

"Hired." Genevieve repeated.

A look of relief forced itself onto the Asian's face. Perhaps the Hunter was a novice, unaware that the person she was speaking to was a vampire, or maybe she did know and was surprised her patchy cover story had convinced the Baroness at all. Either way the blonde's intense gaze would be focusing on the Asian from the moment she next entered the nightclub.

The Asian jumped up "Thank you, thank you so much!" She said, grabbing hold of the blonde's hand, shaking it.

The Germanic blonde pulled her hand away and forced a cheesier grin onto her face "You're welcome. You'll get your start date in the mail. If you could please leave the way you entered that would be great."

The girl went back to looking shocked, probably surprised by the smiling blonde's sudden bluntness.

As Caden O'Shea descended the newly constructed stairs of the night club, he saw and girl who looked like she could have been Japanese exiting warehouse. Adjusting his hardhat the blonde frowned at her, and the brunette returned the favour. He recognised that face but couldn't put a name to it. Naturally the O'Shea blamed his brother for not being there, as Caden's twin would have known immediately.

Today the vampire wore what he always wore, a three piece suit. The grey clothing was the oldest thing in his wardrobe. Well the oldest thing in his wardrobe that was clothing. Though apart from being old, his ensemble was also lacking a tie, and Italian leather shoes. Earlier that night he'd debated getting out bed purely because he knew that tonight his outfit would have been more casual than usual.

O'Shea sighed as he reached the bottom of the stairs, knowing his 'wonderful' business partner would soon be there to greet him. He wasn't that he disrespected Genevieve. It was more the fact she'd bullied her way into this part of the Camarilla Sect without a care in the world about the native population. The blonde seemed to grow angry the more he thought about the Baron, which wasn't helping their relationship.

"You're from the Isle of Emeralds?" A voice suddenly questioned.

"Yes. What? No! Genevieve!" He hissed "How many times have I told not to do that?"

He turned to shot daggers at his female business partner, only to be surprised which how close she actually was to him. Her icy blue orbs gazing deep into his warm brown eyes. Feeling her unnecessary breath on his cool skin, he shifted his weight to avoid most of it. She wasn't wearing a hardhat, but then again she never did. The Germanic blonde didn't care if her expensive, black, jeans had gotten grey and dusty or if she got dirt and oil on her silver blouse. The Baroness was unbothered by the things that most people cared about, like personal space, for example. Caden had noticed throughout any conversation she'd have with him she'd always edge closer, making him increasingly uncomfortable.

Compared to the Baron, Caden was dressed quite formally. Wearing the oldest grey suit he owned, to hide most the dust, he still looked robotic and well-dressed. The blonde felt uneasy not wearing a silk tie but he didn't want any of them to get filthy in the mayhem Genevieve had unleashed on his club. His leather shoes had been ruined the moment he stepped through the door. His foot has landed in some plaster the workmen had dropped.

She smiled "I had to ask, a voice told me."

"Well, listen to _my voice_, you can't keep doing that! You're going to scare people off with your voices and your questions." He spat

Her blonde eyebrows furrowed as she frowned "One would imagine you'd be nice to me… Or you may get cut you out the treaty …"

"You can't do that either! I'm trying to help! Why aren't you getting the message?" He whined

"Why not? This city's terrain is firmly planted in my gray matter…"

"You don't know the people though…"

"You too lack knowledge of them…"

"I know more than you." He spat

Something about the female kindred changed before Caden's eyes. Her soft blue orbs became icy, dark and unwelcoming. It was almost as if she was showing her true colours, the colder ones. Even her white skin seemed to suddenly appear grey. Almost like the Malkavian Primogen, she looked like a corpse, but not withered and thin like Lucius, just cold.

"Ah… But does the ebony brother know of their secrets and intensions? Does the strict one know of their true demeanour? Or has the Dark Son of Janus fooled himself into thinking he does?" She said with a smirk, her voice formal and causing a chill to run down Caden's spine.

O'Shea was aware of the fact that Genevieve was skilled in obfuscate and one other discipline, but he wasn't entirely sure on which she had chosen. Judging by the way the humans around them appeared to have frozen in place, he could only imagine the worst case scenario… Dementation. The discipline hadn't been practiced by Malkavians within the Camarilla for centuries, but for whatever reason it had resurfaced. Judging by Genevieve's influence and mannerisms she had been embraced before the discipline had re-emerged, meaning she'd recently acquired the skill to use it.

Her smirk grew into a demonic smile "You're like a little male spider at the mercy of multiple black windows, not knowing which one has the most venomous fangs, you panic and flee to the biggest one for help."

Whether she able to use dementation or not she was succeeding in intimidating him. Not entirely sure where he would stand in physical combat against her Caden was beginning to believe that a more submissive approach would work better with his business partner. Or at least get his brother to handle any unnecessary interactions with her from now on. He may have been doing a favour for the Prince in assisting the Baroness, but Isaac never said how direct his approach should be.

* * *

Sometime after Lucius had fled from his office the Prince was regretting not putting his influence to better use. One of the other Clans under his control may have been valuable in his search for the facts about the Gangrel girl. The Malkavians were too unstable. Caden was useless when it came to being insightful, and was also busy "helping" the Baron. The other O'Shea owed Low no favours, and was an Anarch anyway, so the odds of him telling the truth were slim. Baron Kron, he did not know enough about her to trust her. Kron's alliances in Austria may become useful later on, Isaac did not wish to waste such a valuable resource. The current and former Primogens for the Malkavians were either anxious or depressed around him. Having Lazzari play the role of an informant was a foolish mistake, and West? He'd be lucky if she remembered how to work a telephone.

But which other Clan could he turn to? His fellow Ventrue mainly focused on their own matters. They did not care for matters that could be handled by those lower down the social ladder, especially if nothing was actively disrupting the peace. The Toreador they could handle people like puppets, but what use was that when he trying to find someone? The Toreador were lazy and only focused on their own selfish objectives. The Tremere put their Clan first, then the Camarilla. Seeing as Low was currently arguing with their Primogen, help would not come from Clan Tremere. The Brujah in this region were mostly allied with Enoch or other Anarchs and were not supportive of the Prince's actions. That only left Clan Nosferatu. Calling them to the tallest tower would be no easy task.

The Nosferatu were the "go to" Clan, if you wanted something found they would find it… At a price. The Nosferatu pooled resources and information to protect their Clan, they would not just willingly give away information without receiving something in return. Most spent little time on the surface near the humans because they were disfigured. Money meant very little to them, and that's Low had… Money, no information of any worth to them.

* * *

Enoch Kearney was spending his Thursday night how he spent every other, playing poker at the King's Crown. As usual the pub was pretty empty, and was only occupied by its usual inhabitants: the Anarchs and several humans. Though there were only four vampires present the humans were on edge, even after several drinks._ Obviously because of the Malkavian_. Enoch thought. His fellow vampires were all Anarchs, all for different reasons and all with varying levels of loyalty to the cause.

His dark hair contrasted with his blue eyes, which were focusing solely on his cards. Though out of all of his features his aquiline nose was perhaps the most dominant. It wasn't a secret that the Toreador in the region referred to him as 'the Nose'. Ironically his was still rather handsome which convinced his fellow Anarchs that the Clan of the Rose were just hiding their own insecurities. This Brujah he wasn't the tallest but certainly one of the strongest, both physically and mentally.

The dirty pub in which he sat was dark and poorly maintained. The emerald wallpaper was beginning to peel off the walls and the carpet was so worn down in places you could the floorboards underneath. Any potential tripping hazards had been duct-taped to the dusty floor. It was obvious that the owner just wanted to go out of business, so he could abandon the building and move on. Not that Enoch was complaining there were other meeting places he could use, this was just the quietest, and was far from the shadow that the tallest tower cast.

"I heard your speech at the meeting was heart-warming." The Malkavian suddenly said.

"If you count accusing Low as of being an egoistic businessman heard-warming, it was…" A female voice replied.

"I did not accuse Low of anything. I just told him what he was." Enoch argued.

Enoch turned to look at the only female in the building. Anita was usually in a bad mood, which caused her to be sarcastic and cynical to her fellow Anarchs. She was hardly civil to the Camarilla's members when they attempted to make conversation. Her olive skin contrasted with platinum hair. Brown eyes continuously scanning the grim room, waiting for a trouble to find her. Anita was known for brawling, in life and in death, she protested for women's suffrage alongside the suffragettes in the early 1900s. Well at least he claimed to hit a police officer or two, before being force fed during the hunger strikes. In death she's claimed to be the lone survivor after an attack from hunters in London and the lone survivor after a group of vampires were attacked by a werewolf. Enoch found all of her stories difficult to believe, but never openly questioned the fair-haired woman as she took great pride in her false past. Anita was surprisingly secretive for a member of the Brujah Clan. Usually Brujah were very to the point, but from her arrival she fabricated a new identity for herself, telling no one her birth name or her true past.

"Ah yes… I believe Caden told me you were delaying the actions of the Camarilla and causing some of the anarchy in the theatre…" The Malkavian babbled

"Anarchy? Delaying actions?" Enoch repeated

"Yes, I believe he called you a 'Rebel without a cause'… And said that you were trying to oppose Isaac at every turn."

Anita cut in "I hate that son of bi-"

"That's my mother you're talking about." The Malkavian replied

The blonde stood up and leant across the table "I don't care. He can take Camarilla politics and shove it! And if he won't I'll do it for him!" she hissed

The Malkavian merely shrugged in response. He wasn't being submissive, but he knew when he had to back down, most of the time. Conor O'Shea had the unfortunate pleasure of being Caden's identical twin, which had its uses. Conor usually knew what was happening further up in the Camarilla Sect, but couldn't care less about it. The blonde's relaxed approach to eternal life meant he didn't take part in many Anarch or Camarilla meetings. In fact he didn't do a lot period. Most the time he slept with the women that entered his club, but seeing as it was undergoing some major reconstruction was going on at the Madhouse, his lazy schedule had been interrupted. His presence in the grim pub was a rare event.

The only way to tell the O'Shea twins apart was by the way they dressed. While the stuck-up Caden usually mimicked Clan Ventrue with a three piece suit. The more relaxed Conor always wore a black waistcoat, which was never buttoned up so his mid-rift was always on display, a black trilby hat with some form of feather or rose tucked into the band and black skinny jeans, which had been ripped stylishly around the knees, providing the vampire with free movement if he so needed it. The blonde also seemed to wear makeup, or at least black eyeliner, perhaps to make him look more gothic or just to anger Caden. Either way it somehow made his feminine facial features appear more masculine.

The third Brujah intervened "Anita, as much as we'd all like to shove various harmful things into Caden's dead body, I don't think such actions will be necessary."

Bleu was as about as calm as a Brujah got. An ideologist more than a man of action. Bleu was a thinker, not a doer. If you gave him enough time to explain himself he could solve almost may problem. The trouble with the black man was that he lacked the charisma to encourage people to listen. Quiet by nature, he did not often speak unless spoken too. His bald head and piercings contradicted his purpose in the Anarch cause. He thought about making the Sect more influential, more powerful. The Anarch Sect needed followers, support. So that's what Bleu thought about, all night, every night.

"You can talk?!" Anita spat as she sat back down.

"Yes…" Bleu turned to the Irish American "Enoch, I believe we need so set up a more united front."

The brunette frowned "I thought we were united…"

"Far from!" Conor sniggered

"Well, our Sect is known for one thing. Fighting. The fighting…" Bleu shook his head "It's out of control. I don't mean Anita threatening others, I mean some of our members fighting with those in our Sect and outside of it. Just last week we lost two members to the Sabbat, because they were ill-experienced in battle and lacked the support of their peers. We need discipline. I don't mean Low's style of discipline, just some form of order."

Enoch was upset and angry at Bleu for saying such things, which only meant the white-haired Kindred was furious. The brunette had been too busy plotting to overthrow Low with the army he didn't have. He hadn't focused on the problems that had been happening in front of his very eyes. Bleu, as usual, was right. He needed to discipline the Sect, but people didn't join the Sect for rules, they joined for liberation. Kearney was caught between a rock and a hard place. He couldn't get liberation from the Camarilla without followers, but he couldn't get followers without offering liberation.

"Simple, don't make yourself the boss." Conor said.

Enoch turned to look at the blonde who was looking directly at him. Something was always off putting about a Malkavian's gaze, Conor's especially. It was almost they were reading a book when they looked at someone intensely.

"There's a new Baron remember? She's not happy about Low, because he picked on her at the meeting. Kron may not want Liberation of the Kindred, but she'll most certainly want the Prince off her back before he offers her a favour and expects one in return." Conor continued

"She'll want safety from the Prince and anyone supporting him." Enoch muttered.

"Exactly. If I offer her an alliance with me" The blonde smirked "She'll most likely back us over the Camarilla if anything happens. There's also the Baron on the South bank of the river and the Toreador Primo-"

"One step at a time." Bleu interrupted "The pieces will fall into place. We just need to keep Kron independent from Low and Caden."

Anita stood up "This is the stupidest conversation I've ever been part of. I'm going to get some air before I choke on all this fucking bullshit."

The fair-haired Brujah stormed out the pub, letting the front door slam behind her. The brunette presumed the idea of limiting the Sect's freedom in some way had angered her. Anita didn't do compromise. She either saw you as a 'Camarilla Prick' or an Anarch.

Enoch knew for a fact that Kron would be a difficult individual to handle. Although O'Shea had claimed the task of supervising her, the Irish-American couldn't help but worry that it may not be the wisest move. Malkavians weren't the most reliable Clan for a reason. They'd been through two Primogens in the past 50 years. One retired due to depression and other was beginning to become unstable. Could he really trust Conor to basically guard the Baroness?

Would Caden even left his brother near the new-comer?


End file.
